


At the Stars

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, First Time, Futurefic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-01
Updated: 2003-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-01 06:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark and Lex start believing in freewill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Stars

## At the Stars

by jazriot

<http://www.livejournal.com/~hallelujah>

* * *

Clark Kent scribbled away furiously at his notepad, filling page after page with quotations from the speaker. Lois kept trying to convince him to use a Palm. Clark wasn't buying in. There was something more trustworthy about ink and paper. Clark liked trustworthy things. 

Applause filled the hall and Clark took a minute to crack his knuckles and sip some water before rising to his feet. Lois was already near the front, thrusting a recorder into the President's face and assailing him with a mob of questions. She had a knack for aggressive journalism and could worm her way into the intimate space of any target. Lex Luthor looked vaguely amused. He always looked vaguely something, lately. Like his face couldn't quite decide on what emotion to go with. Oh wait, it could. Somehow he had managed to find Clark's face in the crowd. The emotion it displayed then was the same as it ever was. So blatant, but only to Clark. Want. 

Clark flicked his eyes downwards and felt the burn creep up into his face. He studied the last page of his notes. He never used the term President in his notes, only Lex. He always wrote those three letters slower, indulging in a loop on the L that was very impractical in note taking. When he looked up again, Lex and Lois were gone. The conference began to disperse. Clark sat back down and waited. Eventually the building emptied completely and Clark used the silence to focus on his writing. He glared at the spaces between the lines, trying to read something into them. What had Lex said? Peace achieved in the Middle East. World debt cancelled. Some things even a superman couldn't manage. 

"I've been wrong all this time," Clark murmured. The table splintered beneath his fingers from the frustration. 

"You haven't been wrong but perhaps you haven't been right either - Superman," said a voice from the door. Clark jerked his head around to find Lois grinning at him. 

"The President wants to see you, Clark. I wonder why that would be? There's a limousine waiting outside for you. Get an exclusive. Give me your notes, I'll write this one up." 

Clark felt his notes being taken from him and his bag being slung over his shoulder. Lois pulled him to his feet and prodded him towards the exit. 

"How did you know I was -" 

"The table is dust, Smallville." 

"Oh," Clark blushed another shade of scarlet. "I'm sorry." 

Lois sighed and rolled her eyes. "Just go." 

* * *

Clark was mildly surprised to find Lex actually waiting for him inside the limo. This just had to be a security hazard. Lex smiled brightly, choking down the last of a Snickers bar. 

"Hi Clark. It's been a while." 

"Yeah. It has." 

Clark found himself focusing a little too intently on the way Lex was licking remnants of chocolate from his fingers, and so he removed his glasses and hooked them into his shirt pocket. "So. Where are we going?" 

"Home." 

Clark coughed. "The White House?" 

Lex grinned and sank back a bit into his leather seat. "Not exactly." 

Clark folded his hands in his lap and looked out the window. The streets of Washington were tranquil, like a silver lake waiting for a stone to be skipped across. If Clark positioned himself perfectly he could see Lex's pale features in the window, flickering with the streetlights as they passed. 

"I've been . . . keeping up with what you've been doing, Lex," Clark uttered finally. 

"And?" 

"It's good. What you're doing is - your father would be most disappointed." 

Lex's smile faded slightly and he seemed to look beyond the roof of the car and out into the night. "I hope so," he breathed. 

Clark eyes lingered on his former best friend's face. The years had been very kind. It was almost suspicious. The word _breathtaking_ crackled through his brain and he gripped his knees desperately, coughing and sputtering on the thought. 

"Clark! Are you okay?" Lex undid his seatbelt and stretched across the distance, hesitating before resting his hand on Clark's shoulder. Clark hissed and pulled away. "Lex, your ring ..." 

"Shit! I forgot," Lex instantly pulled back, practically tearing the ring from his finger. The window came down at the press of a button and the sparkling kryptonite encrusted ring was tossed into the dark streets, its tiny clink the sound of deliverance. 

Lex rubbed his hands on his pants, leaving evidence of their sweaty state along his thighs. "I'm so sorry Clark. I really didn't mean to cause you any harm tonight." He blinked hard and studied Clark's face, almost pleading. "I got so used to wearing it that it didn't even occur to me - " 

"It's fine," Clark muttered, feeling his sigh catch in his throat. "But does that mean you meant to cause me harm on some other night?" 

Lex's eyes widened, the torment almost tangible. "Clark. I don't want to be your enemy." 

Clark chuckled bitterly. "And still I get the feeling that you're not being entirely truthful." 

"You never could handle my truths," Lex whispered, hunching over a bit and scratching at his neck. 

"You never tried to tell me them," Clark countered. 

"I did. You didn't want to hear them. You couldn't see them. You were just a child, after all." 

Clark lifted his eyebrows and undid his seatbelt, slumping towards Lex slightly. "Then tell me now. There's nothing left to lose, is there?" The breeze from the still open window caught at his hair and blew his fringe forward into his face for a few moments. 

Lex's head seemed to drift towards the sound of Clark's voice of its own accord, stopping only when they were staring at each other, inches apart. "No. I suppose not." 

One hand cautiously rested along the side of Clark's face, pushing back the wind strewn locks that had rubbed there. Clark could feel the tremble and the heat in it, its fire radiating through his face and down his neck all the way into the pit of his stomach. Clark swallowed hard but remained still. 

"The truth is . . ." 

"The truth is I'm an idiot." Lex smirked and shook his head, making a sudden movement to withdraw his hand. With superhuman reflexes, Clark snatched at the hand and held it in place. A slow smile pushed into his flushing cheeks. "I already knew that, Lex." 

Lex's eyes glazed with some old and genuine emotion. "God, Clark. I just want my best friend back." 

Clark blinked, furrowing his brows. Finally his face relaxed, his eyes resolute. "Okay. In any way that you want me, you can have me." 

A moan came unbidden to Lex's lips. "Christ!" The president shoved his head into the leather seat cushioning and laughed, almost hysterically off-kilter. The fingers under Clark's hand hopelessly tried to squirm away from the heated skin they were pressed against. 

"Don't do this to me, Clark." 

Clark's other hand cupped Lex's chin and pulled it up, forcing their eyes to meet once again. 

"I'm not doing anything to you, Lex. Whatever you want, you can have." 

Lex glared at him, his eyes moister than usual. "Fuck you," he mouthed without sound. 

"If that's what you want," Clark replied passively. 

Suddenly, savagely, Lex pushed him down against the seats, shoving a knee between Clark's thighs and raking his fingers down Clark's shirt, knocking useless glasses to the floor. "Yeah? That's just fine with you? Up the ass? Right here?" 

Clark nodded silently in acquiesce. 

Lex withdrew to his side of the car, crossing his legs and gritting his teeth. "No." 

"Why?" Clark asked, trying to keep his stung pride from showing up in his timbre. There was no answer. 

"You're afraid." 

Lex's head twisted sharply to glare at him. 

"That's it, isn't it? Without your ring . . . you're terrified of me." 

Lex massaged at the bridge of his nose with a finger and thumb, laughing. "Listen to the egotistical Superman. This is what happens when celebrity goes to your head." 

Clark shuffled over into Lex's space, the wind once again flopping his hair into his eyes and destroying the confidence of his maneuvers. Lex lifted an eyebrow, as perfectly presented in a gust of wind as in any other situation. Wasn't that just like Lex, anyway? To go untouched by things as silly as forces of nature. Clark gave into the urge to mess up the pompous president package. Digging his fingers into the collars, he tore the satin shirt from Lex's body in strips. 

"Clark!" Lex's eyes were wide once again, red lined with amazement. Clark grinned deviously and lowered his face to Lex's chest, breathing the pale skin in, becoming addicted to the scent in an instant. He smiled against the skin as he kissed it, chuckling softly when Lex quivered ever slightly. 

"Clark." 

"Mmm?" 

"Stop it." 

Clark's head wrenched up, furious. "Why? I know you want this, Lex. I know you want me." 

Lex inhaled heavily and squashed himself back against the door. "Not like this. Not like another confrontation to be won between the hero and the villain. I couldn't . . . I wouldn't survive it, Superman." 

Clark stared, startled into silence. 

Lex blinked hard and tried to shrug off the confession. "Good thing I had clones made, right?" 

Clark felt something like a whimper swell up from within himself. He swallowed it and tried to breathe. "This is all my fault." 

"This vehicle is breaching martyrdom capacity, Clark," Lex smiled weakly. 

Clark took Lex's face firmly between his hands, smoothing a few faint lines that had etched years of misery around burdened blue eyes. "Lex - " who had taken all the falls and allowed Clark to build up his arrogant walls. 

"Don't say it." 

"God, Lex . . ." who had weathered every attack and never really, wholeheartedly, fought back. 

Was he crying? He couldn't seem to get his sentences past the name he had condemned for so long. "Lex," who had only proven to be an extraordinarily flawed human. 

And so the perfect consort to an extraordinarily flawed alien. 

They had become impossibly curled up into each other, cocooned in a quiet expanse of black leather and tinted glass. Lex stroked at the dampness on Clark's cheeks and sighed, "I've always made my own choices. I hurt many people for selfish reasons." 

"For selfish reasons . . . I hurt only you," Clark mumbled, feeling very foolish and childish. Feeling very ashamed. 

Lex leaned in next to Clark's ear and exhaled: "And I am honoured." 

* * *

Smallville was no longer a small ville. Housing complexes and roads had sprung up, entwining all the way into Metropolis and pushing up suburbia where corn had once dominated. The Kent farm stood with the Luthor castle as isolated testaments to what had been. Nevertheless, Lex owned enough land to isolate his old sanctuary from the sounds of suburban life and mask the distant monstrosities of modern architecture with trees. 

Effectively shielding himself from a home that had never loved him back. 

Clark was sprawled across a crimson skinned loveseat tucked into the corner of Lex's room. He glared at the wall, perversely watching Lex in the washroom. Lex tugged off the remnants of his torn shirt and shrugged into a ruby satin pyjama top. He studied his reflection, indulging his small sense of vanity. It was as if Satan himself was mocking him through his own bloodshot eyes. Lex let himself slump against the sink, his fingernails biting in complaint at all the weight placed upon them. A infinitesimal sigh cracked through the scar on his lip. Finally he let his weight run back into the balls of his feet, twisting on the tap and cupping his hands beneath it. Drinking and drowning his face in their grasp. Refreshed and once again poised, he patted his face dry with a purple towel and stepped back out to make his proposal. 

Clark looked at up at him with something akin to pity. Lex frowned. "You never did respect my privacy." 

Clark shrugged and studied the rug. "You should talk." 

Lex kneeled to settle on the floor before the loveseat. His knee made a popping noise. Clark snorted. 

"Things like that happen when you're not made of steel," Lex mused, sitting relatively cross-legged and leaning his face on one hand. 

"Or when you're getting too old to be crawling around on your hands and knees," Clark snarked. 

"You don't like me on my hands and knees?" Lex winked. 

Thank the gods, Clark could still really blush. But now the boy could fire back without missing a beat. "In a perfect world, you would never stand up." 

Lex felt his own face flush unusually, his tongue tied. He could swear his eyes would burn out from the gleam off Clark's white teeth. As always, the smile held him paralyzed until Clark turned it down a few notches. 

"But I get the impression that's not what you brought me here for." 

Again, playing the saviour. Lex smiled weakly in appreciation and bowed his head. "The reason we are here is that there is an assassin waiting for me everywhere else." 

Clark was frowning in a way that was hard to read. 

"I know I'm not a good person, Clark. But it hasn't prevented me from being a good president. I hope you've seen that." 

"I have," Clark replied. 

Silence. And then Clark reached down and rested his large hand on Lex's shoulder. "I'll protect you, Lex." 

He tenderly raised his hand to rest on the ridge that made-up Lex's jaw line. "Now go to sleep, Mr. President. You look tired." 

With the relief of having Clark genuinely back in his life, Lex barely tossed into bed before he was fast asleep. 

* * *

Lex awoke the next morning to Clark's bitter grousing. The journalist was sitting at a table on the other side of the room, shimmering in an isolated patch of sunlight and flipping through a newspaper. Lex let his eyes adjust so he could appreciate the vision more fully. As if sensing his gaze, Clark turned to him. "Good morning. This really is a rag, you know." The boy held up a tattered old copy of the Inquisitor he had found somewhere. 

Lex smirked and sat up, keeping his blankets over his knees. "Not that you're biased or anything." 

Clark yawned and slouched back into his chair. "I'm surprised you don't have it delivered to the door." 

Lex let his bed coverings pool onto the floor as he stood up. "No one knows or remembers this place except you and me. I've made sure of it." 

In an second Clark had shoved Lex back down onto the bed, covering him completely. In another second an explosion rocked the castle. "Crap," said Clark. Lex felt flames kiss at his toes and then there was only air and Clark to feel for they were hovering far above the scorched castle. Clark had his hands tightly clasped around Lex's waist . . . and they were soaring. 

They glided over Smallville, scrutinizing the bridge where their lives had collided and the fortress where their friendship had ended. Clark turned Lex easily in his hands, holding him from behind and resting his chin against his ear so he could whisper above the wind. "Remind me not to trust things you're sure of, Lex." 

Lex's heart was pumping faster from the enchantment of brushing death and flying once again. Or maybe the euphoria of being held by his old best friend again. "That's probably the best idea," he replied, a foolish hum of delirium clutching at his chest. _But it's almost worth it just to be here again_. 

"What?" 

"Never mind. I was just thinking out loud." 

"Hmm," purred the hero, gripping Lex tighter and flying higher. The land below became a quilt of colours and patterns. Suddenly Clark lay back, changing the perspective. Lex's eyes filled with mist and a morning star. Clark's grip loosened. Lex had no fear of falling. Clark's hands were indestructible, superhuman . . . warmer than the sun . . . and sneaking under his shirt. 

"Clark! What are you doing?" 

"I'm trying to cop a feel, Lex. Is that going to be a problem for you?" 

Lex nearly choked. "Is this really the right time for this?" 

A kiss to his neck. "It will never be the right time for this," Clark answered. 

Cautiously Lex sat up, precariously clutching at Clark's sides so he could flip over and look at the celestial body's face. Clark's hands instantly clutched at his ass and pulled him down to sit against a familiar hardness. Lex's eyebrow quirked in amazement or amusement but Clark's face remained fiercely determined. A hand travelled up Lex's back and behind his ear, trying to gently pull him down for a kiss. Lex resisted. 

"I have terrible morning breath, Clark." 

Clark smiled brightly and removed a hand to dig around in his pocket, eventually tugging out a roll of mints and offering it to Lex. Lex grinned and took two. "And here I thought minty fresh breath was just another one of Superman's superpowers." 

Clark seemed to be too focused on the sucking motions of Lex's jaw to appreciate the humour. They drifted through a large cloud and were coated with brisk mist. When the sun touched them again, Lex lost his ability to form coherent sentences. Golden. Wet. Flushed. Clark. Panting lustfully before him. All while hovering above the world, away from its ideas of right and wrong. Away from everything that had kept them apart. Lex turned his head and spat out the partially dissolved mints, dragging his fingers through Clark's moist hair and bucking against his hips. Lex felt dizzy from the thinning air but decided that breathing was for the weak. Fucking Clark Kent? Now that was the stuff legends were made of. 

Jonathan Kent squinted up at the sky as another item of clothing fell on one of his cows. "What the - " he griped, unable to figure out the source of the wayward wardrobe. There had been a storm warning for the day, so he rationalized that a tornado must have touched down somewhere long enough to take out someone's clothesline before heading back up into the sky. Pulling a shirt from one of his cow's horns, he noticed a press pass clipped to its pocket bearing an image of his son, who was grinning up at him deviously from behind homely glasses. 

"Clark?" Now he was worried. Perhaps his son was doing battle in the sky with some mutant supervillain and had just . . . thrown off his clothes to become Superman. Yeah. That was it. 

Suddenly Jonathan's vision was obscured by something as red as blood. Tugging it off his head he found that it was an expensive pyjama shirt. Embellished into the corner of the front pocket was a cursive LL. He shook his head, bemused. So there was something more to Clark's relationship with that feisty reporter. Lois Lane would be great for Clark, he was sure of it. 

Only . . . it wasn't a very feminine design, was it? And it was a little big - actually, it was more like something that blasted Lex Luthor would - Two pairs of boxers terrorized the cows and there could be no further denials. 

* * *

"God, Clark!" Clark raked his nails over Lex's back, drawing thin red lines. Lex loved Clark's fingers, loved his blood making crescents under Clark's nails. Capturing a hand he pulled it to his face, sucking rigorously at two fingers and delighting in the hangnails he found there. "You look like the cat that swallowed the canary," Clark teased. Lex wrenched the fingers out of his mouth and grimaced. "And that very likely will be all I'll swallow." 

Clark lifted his eyebrows, mimicking innocence. "It sure is a long way to the ground . . . It would be a shame if you lost your balance - " 

Lex squeezed Clark's cock to shut him up. Eyes like diamonds snapped shut and a deep moan escaped Clark's twitchy lips. Lex's other hand traced over Clark's chest, pinching and pulling at stray freckles that marred Superman's claim to the ideal male body. Tiny, almost human imperfections that made the man all the more beautiful in Lex's eyes. Finally Lex lay down along Clark completely, leaving their cocks to battle and rub against each other. Indulging his hands in a journey over Clark's back and behind. Letting his tongue negotiate with Clark's tongue to see if it might be looking for a permanent roommate. Biting at lips that would never bleed. Chewing hard enough to gnash up steak. Finally breathing, almost wheezing like he still had asthma. Clark's eyes opened, impossibly bright and aqueous. "Lex." 

"Yes?" 

"Fuck me." 

Lex nearly fell off from astonishment. An ache of desire ran the entire length of his back, finally settling in the pit of his stomach. "Are you sure? I don't have . . ." 

"You can't hurt me. Lex. I want you." 

Lex wished he had a recorder and a time machine. He'd go back in time and prove to his younger self that it was all worth it. That every good thing he did . . . that every lie he didn't tell would eventually make Clark want him back. 

God, it was so worth it. 

A hand softly traced from his eye to the corner of his lip. "I've always wanted you, Lex." 

Okay, now he would KILL for a time machine. 

Lex buried his face into the nook of Clark's neck and howled hard with laughter. "Christ, Clark! Do you think you could have told me sooner?" 

". . . I did." 

* * *

Seventeen year old Clark Kent. Drenched in rain and cheap alcohol. Pounding at his door after their parting. Crying. Shaking him and throwing him against the couch. Holding Lex's face between his hands and screaming the taste of tequila up Lex's nose. "Why did you have to do this, Lex? I loved you! You've ruined everything!" 

Words Lex Luthor was by then too bitter to believe. "You're drunk, Clark. Go home." 

* * *

"Clark . . ." 

"I wasn't drunk. Not that I hadn't tried. I drank for hours . . . but it had no effect on me." 

Lex couldn't find any words. He tried to show Clark how much it meant to him with his lips and hands. They coiled through the heavens, always entwined. Just like their fates. 

Eventually Clark convinced Lex to climb up behind him. Holding onto Clark by the belly and balls, Lex triumphed in sucking on a freckle he'd discovered on Clark's left shoulder until Clark started to whine. Lex kissed the freckle a fond farewell and finally turned his attention to nudging a moistened finger inside of the boy beneath him. And then two fingers. Every time Lex became concerned about lubrication they passed through another cloud. While water wasn't that great for something like this - there was something so very profound in this act involving that which Clark had first saved him from. 

Clark was making delicious little whimpering noises as Lex moved his fingers in and out. Lex then rubbed against something pure. Clark bit into his own hand to avoid a possibly earth-shattering scream. Lex smiled into Clark's back and rubbed his other hand at the head of Clark's cock, pushing back skin and tormenting its leaking slit. Lex was truly in a precarious position, but he trusted that Clark would always catch him. 

"I'm going to- "Clark growled, thrusting into Lex's hand desperately. 

"Not yet," Lex hissed against Clark's hair, ceasing his movements. 

"God. You are evil." 

Lex laughed. "I know." 

Cautiously, Lex eased his fingers out of Clark and pushed himself in. He was almost done with that one slow motion. 

Clark's breathing was hitched and reckless. "Move Lex!" And Lex thrust in. Over and over. 

Until Clark was whispering nonsense and Lex could forget everything he was outside of the person inside Clark. The sky was darkening with storm clouds, but even the drenchings and thunder could not awake them from the bed of wind and lust they had fashioned together. 

"Lex!" and Clark came. A few more thrusts and Lex came, babbling promises that were better drowned out by the tempest. They twisted around in the air again to look into each other's eyes, faces softly smiling and sated. Where Lex's eyes had been bitter and overburdened, there was now only appreciation. Where Clark's eyes had been shadowed by daily lies and the weight of fate, there was now only understanding. Wind and rain washed them clean of all evidence, but their eyes and hearts had been changed forever. 

* * *

Had the homeless vagrant been looking up from his puddle of alcohol enhanced urine, he would have witnessed the city's most eminent stars gliding through the skies and landing ungracefully on a fire- escape. Both stark naked. It was quite a sight. 

But some people live their lives without looking up. 

Lex looked up to find Clark's face grinning down at him lightly, radiating that brilliance that without exception appeared to dazzle straight from Clark's heart. For the first time in a long time, Lex had the strangest urge to fall to his knees and thank something, anything, for bringing Clark back into his life. Even the assassins. With that thought he chortled to himself. Clark scooped Lex up into his arms, lifting him through a large open window and tossing him onto a futon before crawling in after him. Lex felt silly and giddy. He rolled around on the mattress like a cheerful kitten. 

"Lex?" 

"Meow." 

"Um. Wow. I've never seen you this . . ." Clark shook his head and sighed, unable to find the word he needed. 

"Happy?" Lex stopped rolling and just sprawled. "Easy answer being: I've never been this happy before." 

Clark chuckled and stepped over to his bureau, digging through drawers for something for them to wear. Finally he decided on a pair of old jeans and a red t-shirt for himself and a pair of flannel slacks and a black t-shirt for Lex. 

Lex sat up and studied the clothing. "I cannot escape the plaid," he murmured, running his fingers over the slacks. 

Clark shrugged on his t-shirt. "They're pyjama pants. I figure you won't be going out much in the next while - " 

Lex crawled into them and snapped the elastic band. "Ah. Also easy access should someone want to take advantage of me." 

Clark reddened faintly but offered no argument. Lex grinned victoriously as he yanked on the t-shirt. He them flopped onto his back with his hands under his head, grinning idiotically at the ceiling and wiggling his toes. 

Clark moved and shifted to lay down beside him, rolling to rest his head on Lex's chest. Lex continued to grin cheerfully as he stroked his fingers through Clark's hair. 

"You do realize you're snuggling, Lex." 

Lex gave an expression of mock-horror. "Damn you, Superman! What . . . have . . . you done to ME?" 

Clark pursed his lips. "Nothing compared to what I'm going to do." 

Lex's eyes fluttered. "Do tell. Or even better, demonstrate." 

Clark shook his head and pressed a chaste kiss to Lex's forehead. "We have lots of time. I can tell you haven't been sleeping well." 

Lex sighed and burrowed deeper into the futon. "Death threats, war, National Enquirer. All still preferable to working at a crap factory." 

Clark nodded and tucked the bald president into his arms. "Sleep, Lex." 

Lex was chewing on his lower lip, musing softly to himself. "I wonder if this makes me a homosexual . . . hmm . . . perhaps just a supersexual?" 

"SLEEP, Lex." 

"Okay, okay." 

And he was out like a light. 

Clark watched Lex doze and let his own trains of thought run their spiral routes through his head. Trying to put a definition on a relationship that could not be defined. Volatile with former animosity. Tender with former friendship. Dancing on the knife's edge between love and hate. Seeing Lex asleep, face unguarded : any and all resentments evaporated, dissolved into simple statements of fact. A need to protect Lex. A need to touch Lex. So simple so of course so complicated. Clark indulged in gentle brush of fingertips against Lex's resting face. 

Clark found his eyes settling on Lex's lips. So red, chewed raw from their earlier flying lesson. Staring at those lips - gender became so irrelevant. Wanted to lick - but wanted Lex to stop looking so damn tired more. Sighed silently and let his hand wander down his own body, slipping under his waistband and lightly stroking himself to satiation. 

Outside the world tilted favorably, allowing something it had once forbidden. Clark felt as though his heart was actually growing inside his chest, painfully big with an emotion it had never held before. Past his fluttering draperies and down a few stories, a neighbour's stereo lilted a love song about Jesus and Judas. 

The sky darkened and the rain came down, torrents bouncing off the windowsill and tickling at Clark's neck. Clark kneeled up and shut the window, shutting out the myth they had unintentionally designed their lives around along with the downpour. 

In the street below, the drunk drifter finally looked up and let the rain burn away his tears. 

* * *

Two men, neither super nor villain, awoke to the sound of a radio blathering on. Some DJ, ranting excitedly. Lex sprung up with the words _The President_. 

"What?" 

"Sources at the White House confirm that the President has been missing for over a day!" 

Lex groaned and slumped forward to rest his elbows on the mattress. "Whoever leaked that is so getting . . . deported." 

Clark was staring at him, eyes wide. "What do you intend to do?" 

"What I have to do." 

Clark frowned, displeased. "It's not safe there right now." 

Lex stared down at his arms, at his crossed legs. He didn't particularly want to get up and leave. Already he could feel the bedlam building up in every home and echoing through the alleys of each state. 

"Stay." 

"Clark, it's impossible - " 

Clark was already out of bed, rummaging through his closet. "Superman will inform the nation that the president has been relocated to a secret and secure location due to some concerns with White House security. They'll believe me." 

"Of course. But then they'll know who you are." Lex clawed forward onto his knees, staring up at Clark with calculating eyes. "If the world gets a good look at you, you can forget about having any sort of normal life." 

Clark flinched and the shrugged. "I don't need my journalism career." 

Clark had his exclusive, the greatest story ever. He just didn't feel the need to write it down. 

"And the friends you never told? What about them?" 

Clark hesitated, then nodded as if finding the answer to a test. "Honestly? Protecting you is more important." 

Lex's eyes widened, then softened with warmth. "Clark." 

Clark leaned over and rested his fingers on Lex's mouth. Words died on those lips, along with a future foreordained. 

_fin_


End file.
